


Intermission

by spnblargh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, M/M, Post S8, Shipper Sam, Theatre Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-12-15 01:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnblargh/pseuds/spnblargh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel investigate a haunting at a local theatre. Sam is devious and Castiel's not as oblivious as Dean thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intermission

**Author's Note:**

> Fic Prompt: Trying something new together! (silentdeclarations)

"Run this by me one more time." 

Dean shrugs into his suit jacket; it's new, tailored to his physique. The inside of the jacket has soft, royal purple silk on the inside, and a matching coloured tie is wrapped around his collar. He brushes at his sleeves, tugs at the lapels of his jacket until it sits right, but for whatever reason, he's fidgety.

He looks up expectantly at Sam, who seems to be actively avoiding eye contact. "Well?" he prompts.

"Vengeful spirit's haunting the local theatre," Sam supplies. "So far there haven't been any deaths, but one of the actresses sprained her ankle when one of the stage lights came off the ceiling and nearly fell on top of her."

"And, what? Ghost sightings?"

Sam shrugs, gaze elsewhere. "Yeah, apparently."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Real helpful, Sammy. You got an M.O. or anything?"

"So far, nothing. No murders, no fatal accidents, nothing. But," Sam claps Dean on the shoulder, looking as if he's fighting back a grin, "that's why you and Cas are gonna do some field work." 

"Yeah. And you're staying here."

"Yep. Gonna do a bit more research, see if I can hunt around some more for any theatre-related deaths."

"Right."

"I've been, uh, kinda woozy today as well. I should probably take it easy."

"Sure."

There's a tense moment, like they both want to say something, challenge the other. Dean lifts an eyebrow and Sam shrugs innocently. "What?" 

Dean continues staring him down, and just as he's about to speak up, he's interrupted by the arrival of Cas.

"I'm ready."

Dean tears his eyes away from his brother to give Cas the once-over. He's sharply dressed, adorned in a new suit of his own. It's snug around his legs and torso, but his shoulders look oddly small without the bulk of the trench coat. He's wearing his usual tie, though - blue, like his eyes.

"You look good." He goes for off-hand, casual, but his throat is dry and it comes out gruff. Sam sends him one of those knowing looks and he resist the urge to kick him in the shins.

"Thank you." Cas nods distractedly. "Are we leaving?"

"Yep!" Sam produces two tickets from his pocket and Dean takes them, glancing at the title of the play they're attending: some sort of local production of Les Misérables, whatever that is. "Okay, you guys have fun!"

Cas strolls out first, Dean trailing behind him. Dean glances back at Sam, who looks way too pleased with himself. His brother gives him a small wave of encouragement, and Dean steps outside, closing the door behind them.

On the drive over, Dean can't stop thinking about how not-quite-right the situation is. One, he's pretty sure he would have noticed if there'd been any suspicious accidents in the newspaper, and two, Sam was acting weirder than usual. The theatre seemed like Sam's scene, so why was he so content to stay home? Dean's never been to the theatre before, but it doesn't seem like his sort of gig. He can't shake the feeling that this is some kind of set up. A harmless one, maybe, but-

"Dean?"

Dean shakes his head before glancing over at his former angelic friend. "Yeah, Cas?"

"You seem...concerned." He pauses. Dean can feel Cas's unblinking stare on him. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Yeah, yeah." Dean sighs. He gazes ahead at the road for a moment, pensive, then returns his attention to Cas. "So, theatre. You ever, uh, seen a great tragedy before?"

Cas puzzles over those words for a moment, like he's deciphering them, and then nods. "Yes, I...seem to recall a performance I witnessed in Rome, before the fall of the Roman Empire. Although, I doubt a modern day play will bear much resemblance."

Dean smiles a little. "Yeah, probably not."

They reach the theatre and pull into the car park, the Impala drawing a fair amount of attention from the people wandering towards the main building. He and Cas step out, the night air cool even through their suits, and they head towards the building.

Dean can't help but notice that there are hardly any children here. Plays normally attract kids, right? There are groups of middle aged men and women marching inside, and a number of college students dawdling by the entrance, smoking and chatting animatedly. Dean feels distinctly out of place; Cas probably more so. 

There are a lot of couples around, too. Men and women linked by their arms or their hands, and it makes Dean hyper aware of how close Cas is beside him, and how they might look. He shakes his head, telling himself to nut up, and then heads inside, tickets in hand, Cas following him.

When Sam said it was a local production, Dean was expecting 10-year-old school kids in big, stupid costumes with their proud parents sitting in the front row applauding. He'd presumed they'd be in a giant hall or a crappy little drama room, but so far he's surprised - they're in something like a movie theatre, with enough plush chairs to seat maybe 150 people. A wide stage is straight ahead, and there are expensive-looking stage lights and large projector screens on both sides of the stage. 

He and Cas slide awkwardly past a number of people's knees to take their seats, third row from the back, mumbling apologies as they go. Once seated, Dean looks at Cas, and it dawns on him how intimate the lighting is, because Cas's skin is bathed in a warm, honey glow. He licks his lips, then remembers himself, and looks back towards the stage.

"So now we wait," Cas says, voice low. 

"Yep," Dean nods. "Gotta keep an eye out for Hamlet's father."

They sit for another ten minutes, and then the lights dim and the play begins. Not long after the actors have come on stage does the singing start - seriously, a musical? - and Dean spends the next forty minutes both entranced and very confused by the story unfolding before him. At one point he remembers that he's supposed to be on the lookout for a spirit, so he tears his eyes away from the stage to glance around the room. So far, nothing. When he'd come in he hadn't noticed any cold spots, and none of the big, potential-for-injury spotlights look as if they're being cut free from the ceiling. He's got salt and an iron chain nestled in his suit jacket, and he briefly considers getting up to look around, but he'd be too inconspicuous. He huffs a sigh and leans back in his seat, still on the lookout, but resigning himself to the truth:

Sam had tricked him - there was no vengeful ghost. Sending Cas and himself to the theatre was just a sly way of setting them up on a date, not to complete a salt and burn. He shakes his head, and he'd almost laugh if he wasn't so embarrassed. He's grateful that Cas is as oblivious as he is, because it might be difficult to explain to him that Sam thinks that he and Dean need to enter a big gay relationship together. After the angels fell, Sam had asked him the question - "What's going on between you and Cas?" - and Dean hadn't, well, exactly admitted to having big gay feelings for Cas, but apparently, "he's my friend, and he's kinda like a brother, but it's complicated, man!" was enough to convince Sam that his big brother needed to be dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the closet.

Dean looks to his left, notices the small smile on Cas's face as he watches the play. He seems to be having an easier time following what's happening than Dean is, and isn't that a strange occurrence? Dean looks back to the stage in time to see two of the male characters cup each other's faces tenderly. Dean's mind shifts, quickly, to that time when Cas healed him down in the crypt, and when he looks back over at Cas, he finds that Cas is watching him.

There's an odd moment, then, as Dean and Cas stare at each other's barely illuminated faces, and then the moment passes when Dean looks back at the stage, heat rising along his neck.

He's on edge now, like Cas might catch on: to this date-like set up; to Dean's non-platonic feelings towards him; to the fact that this play is remarkably homoerotic and isn't that a coincidence; but in his periphery he can see Cas turn back to watch the play, so he relaxes.

He slouches in his chair and spreads his arms across the armrests so that his elbow is just barely touching Cas's forearm. He didn't intend to initiate the contact, really, but he can feel Cas shift beside him so that their arms are pressed closer together, their hands almost brushing. Dean takes a deep breath and exhales, relaxing.

The play concludes without a peep out of the vengeful spirit, not that Dean's surprised. Dean leads Cas back to the Impala and they climb in, returning to the bunker.

Cas is quiet on the trip back, gazing out the window, his face blank. Dean can't stop glancing over at him - there's a strangeness that sits thick in the air between them. Cas never wears his emotions on his sleeves, despite being human now, and Dean's got no clue what he's thinking. Dean sighs as he parks in front of the bunker, roughly tugging on the hand break once the car's switched off.

"There was no ghost," Cas comments, staring straight ahead. "I didn't notice anything suspicious."

"Neither." Dean gets out of the Impala, Cas doing the same. "Maybe we'll have to try again another time. Go back when there are less people hanging around."

"I don't think that's necessary." Dean starts when Cas appears beside him (Of course, he can't fly anymore, but that doesn't stop him from being a sneaky bastard). "I don't think that there was ever any ghost to begin with."

Dean's palms moisten with sweat. "Right. Then Sam just sent us to see a high school musical for no reason, then?" 

Cas gives him a small, curious smile, and there's a strange glint in his eye. Dean watches him, silently daring him to do something; to bring out, into the open, the issue they've been dancing around for a while now. Cas's smile remains constant as he moves closer, crowding Dean against the car. Dean presses his sticky hands against the Impala's smooth body, and Cas leans in closer, breath tickling against his lips. 

"Oh, I'm sure Sam has reasons. I believe that he just wanted us to...have a bit of a fun together."

Well, damn, if there isn't a suggestion in there. Cas has this innocuous look on his face, but Dean knows better. He can hear the huskier tones in Cas's voice; can see the lowered lashes and wide pupils, even under the limited lighting of the streetlamp. He's not sure what's come over Cas and when he discovered the art of subtle seduction, but he kinda likes it, and wonders if tonight's the night that he'll finally get to explore those ideas he's been fantasising about.

Just as he's starting to lean in, a flirtation on his tongue, Cas takes a step back. Dean stares at him, perplexed, and Cas just tilts his head in response.

"Shouldn't we head inside?"

Dean looks at him for a moment longer, eyes wide, but Cas turns away and heads to the door, a slight swagger in his steps.


End file.
